


Threads of Red and Blue

by Sefiru



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU - Canon Divergence, Also he fights a troll, Anachronic Order, Dad Jokes, Draco is a Rufus mini-me, Family, Flashbacks, Gen, Hermione is perplexed, Humor, Like literally the worst, Loyalty, Mirror of Erised, Reincarnation, Reno is a troll, Rufus facepalms, Terrible chapter titles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29571810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sefiru/pseuds/Sefiru
Summary: In which Rufus Shinra is reborn as Harry Potter and the Turks are the Weasley siblings. That's it, that's the fic.
Relationships: Harry Potter & weasleys, Rufus Shira & Turks
Comments: 49
Kudos: 102





	1. All Aboard the Hype Train

[Now]

Among the crowds milling through King’s Cross station, the family of redheads was easy to spot. The five children were dressed alike, in navy-blue suits that could be school uniforms, but the way they were scanning the crowd did not belong to any schoolchildren.

In the shadow of a pillar, the boy currently known as Harry Potter smirked. He had finally located his people, after a decade of waiting. He gathered his luggage and strolled over for a closer look.

“First year at Hogwarts, dear?” asked their mother. Her youngest son face palmed.

“Smooth, mum, real smooth.”

In short order Harry and his belongings were settled on the train. Minutes later, one of the redheads opened the door to his compartment. “Mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full, yo.”

“Sure.” Jacket open, shirt untucked, no tie – there could be no doubt. “It’s good to see you again, Reno.”

The redhead shot upright. “ … Boss?”

Harry flashed his old recognition sign, from another lifetime.

***   
[Before] 

A circle of runes was chalked on the floor, surrounding the young couple who had drawn them.

“I wonder if this will work, Arthur.”

“We’re about to find out.” They both wanted a large family, and with hints of troubled times brewing, they had decided to try this obscure blessing ritual.

As the sun dropped below the horizon, the runes lit up; the room around them shimmered and faded away. A misty expanse of green and blue appeared, crossed by ribbons of colored light. They looked around in wonder.

A figure became visible: a young woman, dressed in a simple gown, her hair tied loosely in a ribbon. “Good evening, Molly and Arthur Weasley.”

Molly was the first to gather her wits. “Good evening, milady.”

“Call me Aerith, please. I never had much of a head for formalities.”

“Aerith, then,” said Arthur. “Thank you for answering our call.”

“I came because I believe we can help each other.” Aerith clasped her hands in front of her. “You see, a soul will soon be born into your world with a great destiny to fulfill. And those who followed him in his previous life won’t let him face it alone. If you agree, these seven men and women will be born as your children.”

“Seven,” Molly murmured, a sparkle in her eye.

“Girls, too,” said Arthur; there hadn’t been a daughter in his family for generations. “So … what’s the catch?”

Aerith smiled sadly. “Their memories will return to them, so they won’t ever truly be children. And – they are dangerous people, doing an unpleasant job. There are some who would not want that sort under their roof.”

Neither Arthur nor Molly were Gryffindors for nothing. Molly lifted her chin. “All the more reason for them to have a home to come back to.”

Arthur nodded. “All children grow up and face danger eventually. That isn’t something that would stop us.”

“It’s a deal, then!”

***   
[Now]

Rufus was in the middle of explaining why he was wearing old tents for clothes, when Reno’s twin brothers stopped by the compartment. “Look, ickle Reno-kins has found himself a friend! Care to introduce us?”

He held out his hand. “Harry Potter. But my friends call me Rufus.” Both twins gaped at him. Reno almost fell off his bench laughing.

“Close your mouth, Tuesti, you’re not a Toad,” Rufus told the left-hand twin. They might have the same face now, but he knew their tells. “And Cissnei, this is a new look for you.”

“There’s a potion for that; I’ll ge tit once I’m seventeen.”

“And I’ll grow my beard again,” said Reeve. “Until then …”

“We’re a double act,” they chorused. Rufus was astounded that the school was still standing.

***   
[Now]

Where Reno was, Rude was never far off. He was currently known (according to Reeve) as Perfect Prefect Percy, and visited their compartment during his patrol of the train.

He greeted Rufus with a nod. “Mr President. Dark hair is a new look for you.”

“Any hair is a new look for you,” Rufus replied. Rude’s hair was shorn close to his skull, but still. He tilted tinted glasses in amusement.  
***  
[Before]

For Tseng, it felt like waking up. He remembered bleeding out, shielding Rufus with his body, then the hazy glow of the Lifestream. And then he was in a two-year-old body. Though his memories of infancy were patchy, the room was familiar; in a crib across from him slept a baby who he could already recognize as Vincent.

He sat upright on the edge of his cot to try his range of motion. His control was better than an ordinary child’s, but not nearly the level of his adult self. He wondered what time frame he was working with; he would prefer to be a useful size when he found Rufus again.

The floor outside creaked, and the door opened. The person who came in was both familiar and strange – a sensation Tseng expected would be frequent in the next few days. “Good morning, Mum.”

“Oh, my.” She took a startled step forward. “Have you – remembered?” So, she did know about their mission. Tseng nodded silently. “How wonderful, Bill – may I still call you Bill?” He nodded again; it was a respectable name, and the first gift from his new parents. His mother moved to pick him up, hesitated, and it felt natural to reach his arms out to her.

“Whatever I have been, I’m your son too.” Tseng had been without family, save the Turks, for a long time. Mum gathered up Vincent (now Charlie) and carried them both downstairs.

“Arthur, Bill has his memories back!”

His father beamed at him. “Oh? It’s great to meet you properly! Miss Aerith barely told us a thing, and I’m dying of curiosity.”

“Don’t pester him, dear.” Mum set Tseng in a high chair – which was slightly embarrassing, thank the gods he didn’t remember having his nappy changed – and got on with serving breakfast.

“Aerith always was full of mischief,” Tseng said. “How much do you know?”

“Only that our children would be reborn souls,” said his father. “This is fascinating, I thought your personality might change with your memory, but you’re the same as ever.”

“Does that mean Charlie was always such a grump?” asked Mum. Tsenk’s lip quirked.

“Only when he was awake, and he’d sleep like the dead. Liked to travel, had a knack with large beasts.”

“Who knows, maybe we’ll have a dragon tamer in the family.”

***   
[Now]

“I heard Harry Potter is in this compartment. Is it true?”

Rufus studied the boy who had just barged in. _Planet, it’s a mini-me_. The slicked-back hair and arrogant tone were unfortunately familiar, not to mention the pretend security detail. “That’s me,” he told the boy. “And you are?”

“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.” They shook hands; Draco continued, “You’ll find that some Wizarding families are better than others, Potter.”

Subtle; Reno rolled his eyes, and Rufus suppressed a snort. “Care to take a seat, Draco?”

Draco sneered. “You won’t get anywhere hanging around the Weasleys. Everyone knows they all dress alike because they can’t afford a proper wardrobe.”

The little snot couldn’t know the true meaning of the uniform, and that was all that saved him from harm. Reno’s glare could cut glass. Rufus’s voice turned bone dry. “Right, because barging in without knocking and then insulting people to their face is _so_ high class. Bravo.”

Malfoy turned red. “You’ll regret not accepting my offer, Potter.”

He stormed out, and Reno snickered. “That brings back memories, yo.”

“My apologies.”

***   
[Now]

“Oh, are you going to try a spell? I’ve already read all the textbooks, you know …” As Hermione chattered on, Reno got a mischievous look in his eye. He pointed his wand at the rat.

“Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow.”

Rufus mentally face-palmed.

“Well, that’s not a very good spell, is it?”

Rufus mentally double-facepalmed. Fortunately, Reno wasn’t being a total prick, and sent Neville to Rude for help finding his toad.

***   
[Before]

“Weasley, William!” Tseng walked forward and calmly placed the sorting hat on his head.

“Good heavens!”

“Is there a problem?” Tseng thought at it.

“… Not as such. Hmm, placing you properly will be a challenge. Too practical for Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff, perhaps; your loyalty is absolute.”

“And it is to one man alone.” Memories of a crisp white suit crossed his mind. “Would the children of that house understand that?”

“Therein lies the difficulty. Likewise with Slytherin; you have cunning in plenty, but …”

“There would be bloodshed.” It was less than a year since the Dark Lord had fallen, and Tseng had a suspicion who Rufus had been born as. “Which leaves Gryffindor.”

“Indeed. Though you may have to show them the difference between courage and recklessness – better be GRYFFINDOR!”

***   
[Now]

“Potter, Harry!” Rufus ignored the stares and whispers as he approached the sorting stool. With no less than four Turks watching over him, he had no reason to worry. Taking a seat, he put on the sorting hat.

“My, my, what have we here?”

“Surprised, Mr Hat?”

“After sorting all those Weasleys? Hardly. They’ve been waiting for you to turn up, and I can see that you’re worthy of their loyalty.” (Rufus blushed faintly.) “And that makes sorting you a puzzle. You would do well in any house; you are no stranger to hard work, and you have ambition and cunning that most Slytherins would kill for.”

“Been there, done that, lost my taste for it.” Rufus recalled how fast Mini-me had been sorted; it had been two lifetimes since he was like that. Funny, how an apocalypse or two could change one’s perspective. “I still know the game, but that’s all it is to me now.”

“Well said. And since few have the courage to face their shortcomings as you have, I’ll make your minions’ lives easier and send you to GRYFFINDOR!”


	2. Various Trolls

[Now]

The Weasleys had acquired a reputation for doing everything together, including their after-dinner study group. Each of them had not only the same hair color and outfit, but identical journals which they apparently used to keep track of homework.

“They’re linked,” Reeve explained as he handed one to Rufus. “Anything you write in one appears in the others. It’s our most secure method of communication.”

Reno had gotten some raised eyebrows from the older students when he invited Rufus to join the family study session; they no doubt assumed that the Weasleys were kissing up to the Boy Who Lived. Not that Rufus cared.

He lounged beside Reno and watched words flow across the page in Tseng’s familiar hand. _“How was the train ride?”_

_“Fantastic,”_ wrote Reno. _“And we’ve got a surprise for you.”_

_“ ? ”_

Rufus put pen to his own journal. _“It’s been a while, Tseng.”_

There was a startled pause. _“Good evening, Mr President. I hope you have been well.”_ The slight tremor in the script might have been Rufus’s imagination.

_“I am now.”_ Now that he could have the Turks make some … arrangements … on his behalf.

_“Details,”_ wrote Vincent’s blocky hand. With a slight smirk, Rufus started noting down the Dursley’s personal information.

*** 

Scabbers grew more and more agitated as Rufus’s report unfolded. “What’s with the rat?” he asked eventually.

Reno grinned. “He’s an involuntary recruit.” For which read, prisoner.

“What did he do?”

Rude adjusted his glasses. “He’s the one who sold you out to the Dark Thingy.”

“So you turned him into a rat? Appropriate.”

“Nah, he did that to himself. We just made sure he stayed that way.”

*** 

The following morning, Tseng went straight to his manager’s office. “Bronzeclaw. I’m activating the geas clause of my contract.” He waited while Bronzeclaw took out his personnel file and found the relevant clause.

“Ah yes, your family’s geas. You have indentified the person you are bound to?”

Tseng smiled ever so slightly. “Yes; he is currently attending Hogwarts.”

Bronzeclaw, who was a veteran curse breaker himself, cackled. “That stone face can’t fool me; I know how much you’ve been looking forward to this. Your transfer to London will be processed within ten business days. And if your principal is who I suspect … suggest he have his vaults audited.”

“Noted.” Tseng turned and left the office. He had planned for this long ago; although he was the President’s eye in Gringotts, he needed to be available for emergencies. Vincent would remain in Romania, as he worked best as a remote operative. Four of his siblings were in place around Rufus, with Elena watching over the family home. It was … adequate. They were used to working as a small team, which was enough for a post-Meteor world, but for Wizarding society – he would be looking for recruits.

***   
[Before]

Tseng sat at a long table, surrounded by Goblins. This was the last phase of his certification as a cursebreaker; he wasn’t supposed to know that it was an impossible task. He had already examined two artefacts of unknown nature, and it would take more than that to make him sweat.

The proctor set a third small box in front of him. Tseng cast the usual detection charms, which came up empty, and raised the lid. His brows lifted, the only outward sign of his startled delight; in the box was a glowing green Materia.

He picked it up and fed a thread of magic into it – a Cure. He cast it on himself, and the aches from sitting in a hard chair for hours faded. The goblins gaped at him.

“Do I pass?”

The senior proctor, Sharpfang, cleared his throat. “Getting any item from this test to function is an automatic pass. As I believe you already know. There’s a bonus in it for you if you can explain how you did it.”

Tseng’s eyes narrowed. “Oh? How much of a bonus?” 

***   
[Now]

Mini-me soared over their heads, waving Neville’s remembrall. “Look, I’ve got Longbottom’s little toy!”

“Very mature, Malfoy,” Rufus called. “Is this worth the detention from Madame Hooch to you?”

“Scared of a little flying, Scar-head? Come and get it!”

Reno leapt onto his broom. “Leave it to me, Boss.”

Rufus sighed. Reno would really take any excuse to get flight time. He was certainly a better pilot than Malfoy, and almost caught the remembrall on his first pass. Malfoy swerved wildly.

“I wonder if he really did dodge a helicopter,” mused Rufus.

“I wonder if he knows what a helicopter _is_ ,” replied Hermione.

“Hm.” If Reno were in a chopper, Mini-me wouldn’t stand a chance. What was the going rate for a decent helicopter these days? Overhead, Malfoy resorted to throwing the remembrall; Reno dove after it with a whoop … just in time for Professor McGonagall to arrive on the scene.

*** 

“Ronald Reno Weasley,” Hermione hissed. “Do you mean to tell me that instead of being punished for your misbehaviour, you’re getting a spot on the Quidditch team?”

“What can I say, I’ve got natural talent, yo.” Reno shrugged, hands in pockets. “maybe I’ll get scouted by the Cannons.”

“Is that all you ever think about? You’re neglecting your education.”

Only Rufus caught the mischief in Reno’s laugh. “Who needs education when you’ve got flying?”

“Argh!”

*** 

“Honestly, Win- _gar_ -dium Levi- _o_ -sa. How stupid does she think I am, yo?” Reno’s laugh was cut off by a gasp from behind them; Hermione rushed past, obviously upset. Rufus frowned.

“That was uncalled for, Reno.”

Reno huffed a sigh. “I know. Sorry, Sir.”

“I’m not the one you need to apologise to.”

*** 

When Hermione didn’t show up for dinner, Rufus took Reno and went looking for her; the girls in their class said that she was in one of the bathrooms, crying. Rufus knocked on the door. “Ms Granger? Are you there?”

“W-what do you w-w-want?”

Reno winced. Even for him, making little girls cry was a new low. “Look, I’m a git and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all those things, yo.”

“R-really?”

“Really,” said Rufus. “May we come in?”

“All r-right.” Rufus and Reno entered the bathroom; Hermione was sitting on the edge of a large basin, scrubbing her cheeks dry.

“The rest of it, too, Reno,” Rufus prompted.

“Um, well. I’ve been winding you up since day one, acting dumber than I really am. So, sorry about that, too.”

Hermione scowled. Then she marched up to him and slugged him in the stomach, hard. Reno took it without blinking. Then she turned to Rufus. “As for you – why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“Honestly, I was waiting for you to cotton on. He’s not been all that subtle.”

Hermione was about to say something else, when a roar echoed down the corridor outside.

Rufus and Reno, with a lifetime’s experience in monster hunting, immediately drew their wands. All levity gone, Reno opened the door a crack and peeked out. Then he very quietly closed it.

“Troll,” he reported.

Rufus gestured for Hermione to remain silent. “Recommendations?”

“Get in the front corners. If it comes in, get behind it and out the door.”

Rufus nodded, and pulled Hermione into one of the corners closest to the hallway; Reno crouched in the other. There was a tense pause while footsteps lumbered towards them. There was a snuffling noise – and the bathroom door burst inward.

Unfortunately, the troll stopped right in the doorway, blocking it. Reno didn’t hesitate. “Oi, ugly! Over here!”

Despite the circumstances, Rufus smiled as he edged towards the door. Reno had shed his school robe, leaving him in Turk uniform; his red ponytail snaked behind him as he dodged the troll’s club. He had a wand in hand rather than his favourite mag rod, but Reno in battle was always a sight worth seeing. Rufus pushed a gaping Hermione through the now-open door, then turned around and raised his wand. All he needed was one clear shot … 

Reno dodged between the troll’s feet, making it club itself in the groin. That gave him enough time to roll clear and line up his wand. “Reducto!” They both cast at the same time; both struck the troll squarely in the eye. It took one more step and keeled over, dead. There was another pause as they all caught their breaths.

“And that,” Hermione said faintly, “Is why boys shouldn’t go into a girls’ bathroom.”

***

Rude arrived moments later, surveyed the scene, and traded nods with Rufus. “Injuries?”

“None.”

“I’m all right,” said Hermione. Reno just gave the all-clear hand sign.

“The twins?”

“Keeping watch on the rest of the House. All students have been evacuated to the dormitories.”

There must have been an emergency announcement in the Great Hall, which they had missed. “We need better communications,” 

Rude nodded. “Messenger patronus is the most effective, but it’s a difficult spell.”

***   
[The Future]

Dementors circled them, and Rufus’s grip tightened on his wand. Once before, in another lifetime, he had faced darkness that would consume him. And since then, salvation has meant only one thing to him.

“Expecto patronum.” Across the grounds of Hogwarts, silver rain began to fall.

***   
[Now]

Hermione was starting to notice there was something _off_ about the Weasley family. It wasn’t just that they all wore the same clothes; that was the sort of eccentricity that was common among Wizards. She’d thought Ron was having a laugh, playing celebrity bodyguard for Harry. 

Only, after the incident on Halloween, she wasn’t so sure he was playing. He had known exactly what he was doing, and Harry hadn’t been surprised. But, there was no way they knew each other before Hogwarts, was there?

She asked Ron later why he picked her as the one to wind up. “Is it just because I like books?”

“Nah, its because you like to show off, yo.” Was that true? Did she fall for his act because she was so sure she was smarter than him? She knew it was possible, just consider the case of the Cottingley Fairies!

And that set her thinking of all the things about the Weasley family that didn’t add up. How they addressed each other, and called Harry ‘Boss’. How they moved and watched their surroundings. How they seemed to have their own language of gestures and references. Something was up, and Hermione was determined to figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those keeping track:  
> Rufus = Harry  
> Tseng = Bill  
> Vincent = Charlie  
> Rude = Percy  
> Reeve = Fred  
> Cissnei = George  
> Reno = Ron  
> Elena = Ginny


	3. I Got a Rock

[Now]

In a darkened, disused classroom, a young boy sat in front of a mirror, a sketchbook open on his lap. His gaze shifts between the glass and the paper as he drew what he saw. The strokes of his pencil were steady and precise.

The door swung open; Headmaster Dumbledore stood there. “Harry, my boy, I see you have discovered the mirror of Erised.

“Is that what it’s called? It’s amazing.” Rufus didn’t look away from his drawing.

“You must beware, my boy. _I show not your face but your heart’s desire._ That is the power of this mirror.”

“I thought as much. That’s why I’m drawing it.”

Dumbledore put on a gloomy expression. “It is unwise to dwell on what cannot become real.”

“What do you mean?” Rufus closed the sketchbook and stood up. “I’m pretty sure I can make my dream real.”

Dumbledore looked sorrowful. “Harry, there is no magic that can return the dead to life.”

“What? Ew, why would I want to do that?”

This answer caught Dumbledore by surprise. “Do you not see your parents in the Mirror, my boy?”

“No? It’s a nice thought, I suppose, but not my heart’s desire. Good night, Headmaster.” Rufus strolled out of the room, leaving Dumbledore flummoxed behind him. “Did he notice you at all?” Rufus asked apparently empty air.

“Nothing,” Rude’s voice answered. “Going to show off your dream city?”

“Once we get back.”

***   
[Before]

Six-year-old Rufus sat in a circle with his class, waiting for his turn. They were discussing ‘what I want to be when I grow up.’ Dudley had already announced that he was going to be a manager like his father; his drawing looked like a walrus at a desk. Rufus wished him luck. 

“Harry, you’re next,” said the teacher. ‘What’s your dream for when you grow up?” Dudley stared daggers at him, daring him to say soething ‘freaky.’

Rufus said, “I want to be an architect!” His drawing was of a skyscraper – a bit crooked and not up to his usual standard, but he was supposed to be mentally six as well as physically. Soaring towers and gabled roofs, arching braces and tiered cities. Navy blue suits. “I want to build a home for everybody.”

***   
[Now]

Presents piled under a tree greeted Rufus and the Turks on Christmas morning. The Dursleys hadn’t sent anything, not that he expected them to. Hermione had, of course, sent books; for Rufus, one about skyscrapers, and for Reno, one on hoaxes and scams.

“I think she’s still upset, yo.” And that wasn’t about to change, since he had sent her a solid block of sugar for Christmas.

There was an anonymous package that had all of them poking it with detection spells, but it proved to contain an invisibility cloak which had supposedly belonged to James Potter. Rufus set it aside for further investigation. The rest of his gifts were from the Weasleys. It was unfortunate that the rest of the family could not join them, but Tseng did not want Dumbledore to know how close their association was. After a review of the man’s public history, Rufus was inclined to agree.

Besides the huge box of Turkish delight which was a Weasley holiday tradition, Mrs Weasley had sent a knitted jumper (in white! Rufus put it on at once). Vincent had sent dragonhide body armor. 

Tseng had sent him a large manilla envelope. “Trust Tseng to send paperwork,” Reno said as Rufus opened it.

“… He’s given me the company.”

“Which company?”

“ _The_ company.” Rufus turned the sheaf of paper around so the others could read: Shinra Technologies – Articles of Incorporation.

*** 

“The third-floor corridor. What can you tell me?” asked Rufus.

“Let me put it this way,” said Reno. “You can tell it was set up by teachers and not, you know, security experts.”

“It’s a test, not a trap,” said Rude. Reeve and Cissnei nodded agreement; Reno took out a stack of reports.

“First off, the outer door isn’t locked, hidden, or alarmed in any way. At least, not by them; we added a rune to log who goes through.” He handed over a scroll. Besides the Turks scouting the place in pairs, the only name on it was Hagrid, who entered for a few minutes twice a day.

“The first obstacle is a Cerberus.”

“What, an actual Cerberus? Same as Before?”

“Exactly the same, yo. We neutralised it with a Christmas ornament.”

Rude held up a small bell that started playing _Jingle Bells_. Rufus resisted the urge to face palm. “And Hagrid’s feeding it?”

“He calls it Fluffy,” said Reeve.

“Fluffy.”

“Moving on, yo. Next is a trap door and a five-storey drop. The walls are climbable, but we’ve got a rope ladder to speed things up. At the bottom is a patch of Devil’s Snare.”

“Oh come on, that was literally the first week of class.”

“No shit,” said Cissnei. “The next one is a little trickier. A room with a locked door, a bunch of flying keys and some broomsticks.”

“Was any of them the right key?”

“Dunno. We picked the lock.” This time Rufus did facepalm. Cissnei snickered. “To be fair, the lock was enchanted to only work if the key was the same material as it. So we had to transfigure the lockpicks.”

Reeve continued, “The next room is a giant chess set where the pieces attack if you try to cross. You’re supposed to win a chess game in order to move forward.”

“Let me guess; you didn’t do what you were supposed to.”

“Hardly. The chess pieces only react if you step on the chessboard. So we used a gecko charm and went along the walls.”

Rufus smirked; that charm was an invention of Reeve’s, a modified sticking charm known only to the Turks.

“Like I said, yo. Schoolteachers.”

“So that’s the dog, plant, keys and chessboard,” Cissnei counted off. She leafed through the report. “The room after that is a troll; we’ve been feeding it drugged sausages. And after that is the last room we’ve reached so far; we think there’s one more left. This one is a logic puzzle with potions.”

Rufus studied the diagram and copy of the riddle. “And are the potions what this says they are? Because that’s as stupid as leaving the key in the same room as the lock.”

“Seems so.” Rude set out two vials, labelled ‘advance’ and ‘return’. “Self-refilling vials. Won’t last forever, but long enough.”

“Efficient as ever. And you next run is on Sunday? I’m curious what they’ve got down there.”

***

“It’s a rock,” announced Rude.

“A magic rock, yo,” added Reno, setting the object on the table. Rufus set aside his Charms essay to listen. “So there was this big mirror, right, just like the one you ran into before Christmas. Turns out it ‘heart’s desire’ means what you want most in that moment.”

“Was hungry, saw sandwiches,” Rude commented.

“Anyway, there’s nothing else in the room so the mirror is obviously the objective. I was all over it, trying to figure out how to get in. I mean, there’s no keyholes or switches, runes, nothing. My curiosity is through the roof, you know how I get, yo. So I look in the mirror again, and my reflection put this rock in my pocket.”

Rufus took a moment to process that. “The key to accessing the mirror is … wanting to access the mirror.”

“Wanting it more than anything else,” Rude pointed out.

“Not much better.”

Rufus picked up the rock to examine it. It felt light for its size, as if it wasn’t a solid piece. And it tingled in a very familiar way – not wand magic, but equipped materia. He felt the rock carefully, was that – yes, there was a seam, and if he twisted just so – 

The rock opened, revealing a cavity with a glowing green sphere nestled inside.

“Bloody hell,” exclaimed Reno.

Rufus touched his magic to the Materia. “A Revive; mastered, too.” Their next mission: find out who this originally belonged to, and whether Dumbledore knew its nature.

*** 

As far as the Turks could tell, no one noticed that the rock and its contents were gone or that the Turks had even entered the obstacle course. Their door logs continued to show no activity. The materia was in the Turks’ own secure storage (namely, Reeve’s booby-trapped trunk) until they could remove it from the school entirely.


	4. Exeunt with a Flourish

Arthur Weasley was wakened at five in the morning when the Burrow’s floo activated. He blinked blearily for a moment, and then came awake all at once; a floo call at this hour could only mean an emergency. Sure enough, when he opened the bedroom door Bill was there, already coming up the stairs and looking ready to commit murder.

“What’s happened?” asked Arthur.

“Rufus missed his check-in.”

No wonder, then. “What do you need?”

“The car.”

That was also no surprise. Arthur stepped back into the bedroom to grab his dressing gown and saw that Molly was also getting up. “Harry’s in trouble?”

“Seems so.”

Bill roused his siblings and soon they were all gathered at the kitchen table, already in uniform and no doubt armed to the teeth; they gulped mugs of tea while Bill gave them marching orders. Meanwhile, Molly swiftly assembled sandwiches. She handed Bill a sack full of them as he stepped away from the table.

“You’ll have time on the way, so make sure you eat. There’s an endless flask of soup in the car, too.”

Despite the tense situation, Bill’s lip quirked up. “Yes, mum. And thanks.”

*** 

Rufus hadn’t truly slept since being locked in his room. He sat on the bed with his back to the wall, wand in hand, and waited. It was coming up on seven o’clock, and he could hear the Dursleys starting breakfast downstairs.

Returning here had been his idea. Without knowing who had placed him with the Dursleys, or if they were monitoring him, it was better to continue the pretense that he was a normal child. He had his journal for keeping in touch with the Turks – except that it was locked away with the rest of his things. As of midnight last night, he had missed two check-ins.

There was a knock at his window. “Boss? Are you in there?” called Reno’s voice. Rufus peeked through the edge of the curtains; a car was floating just outside, with Reno at the wheel.

“I’m here,” he said.

“Stand back, yo, we’re gonna take these bars off.” When Reno said stand back, it was best to take his advice. Rufus crossed to the other side of the room; however, there was no explosion, just a soft shing, and then the bar fell away.

First through the window was Tseng. Like Reno, he was unmistakeable; he even had the tilak painted on his forehead. The only addition was a fang earring hanging for one ear. “Mr President,” he said with a nod.

“Tseng.” Rufus indulged in a hug. Tseng’s stance softened just slightly in response.

“Status, Sir?”

“Minor injuries; also, I’m hungry. They’ve given me one bowl of soup since I arrived. Terrible service, no stars.” By this time, Cissnei had come in and was picking the locks on the door. “My belongings are in the cupboard under the stairs, legal documents are in the safe in the master bedroom. Did anyone bring a camera?”

“Here,” said Rude, holding one up.

“Document everything,” Tseng ordered. “I’m going to have a word with the Dursleys.”

Vernon Dursley had noticed the noises coming from upstairs, but he was slow to react. Tseng met him at the door to the kitchen.

“What are you doing in my house?” Vernon bellowed.

“We are removing Mr Potter from this so-called home.”

“One of those freaks, are you? Well, don’t think you can threaten me by waving a little stick – ”

Tseng drew his handgun and put it to Vernon’s head. “Shut up.”

Vernon, not being quite as stupid as he looked, shut up.

“The three of you are going to stay here until my team finishes their work. Do not tempt me to pull this trigger.”

“What?” shrieked Petunia, peering over Vernon’s shoulder. “We’ve done nothing wrong!”

“There are few wrongs you have not done Mr Potter.” Tseng’s voice was flat with rage. These individuals had dared to lay hands on his President. They presumed to look down on him, who was a better man than they would ever understand. “You have until September second to turn yourselves in to the authorities. After that, I shall deal with you personally.”

Vernon turned an even deeper shade of purple; with the gun barrel still pressed between his eyebrows, he didn’t actually say anything. Petunia made a move towards the phone, but Tseng stopped her with a glare. Dudley just looked confused. “Why do you even care about the freak so much?”

“If I thought you could comprehend it, I would tell you.” It was a lie; no Turk would ever tell what Rufus had gone through with them. Rude appeared at Tseng’s shoulder.

“We’re done.”

Good. Rather than climb out the bedroom window, Tseng left through the back door; Reno landed the car briefly to let him and Rude board. Rufus lounged on the back seat, devouring a sandwich. Tseng sat beside him; as the car soared invisible over Surrey, Rufus leaned against him and went straight to sleep.

*** 

The sound of the Anglia landing brought Molly to the door of the Burrow. She gasped at the sight of Harry Potter lying in her eldest son’s arms, “Is he hurt, Bill?”

“Just sleeping.”

That was a relief. “I’ve aired out his room – yours too, you’ll be wanting to stay with him, and Fred has checked over the wards.”

*** 

When Rufus woke, Tseng was sitting beside him, keeping watch. And when he sat down to supper with the Weasleys, Tseng stood at his elbow; the formality was comforting to them both. The other Turks traded grins. Though Molly and Arthur weren’t sure why, they could see their eldest son was wholly content for perhaps the first time in his life. Or rather, in this life.

“It’s wonderful to finally have you here, Harry dear,” said Molly. “Or would you rather we called you Rufus? Our children have missed you terribly.”

“And I, them.” Rufus swung his hand back just enough to brush the fabric of Tseng’s suit. “Either name is fine; thank you for your hospitality.”

“Hospitality, nothing,” said Arthur. “You’ve been part of this family since the beginning, and now that you’re here, I hope that you’ll consider this your home.”

Rufus smiled. Home … sounded good.

*** 

Hermione didn’t know what she expected to see at the Burrow, but the creaking wooden tower was not it. And here, it was even more obvious that the Weasley children were not noral. For one thing, they moved around the house nearly silently, when Hermione couldn’t take two steps without making a floorboard squeak. For another, the Weasleys were obviously keeping a bodyguard watch on Harry. In their own house. And Harry behaved as if that was perfectly normal.

Hermione was forming a hypothesis. She was fairly sure about what the Weasleys were, but not how or why. So, carrying a neatly handwritten list, she went looking for Bill one afternoon. He was sitting at the kitchen table, cleaning what was clearly a disassembled gun. “Ms Granger. Can I help you with something?”

“Yes; I wanted to ask you about some of the things I’ve noticed while I’ve been here.”

“I imagine a magical household is quite a change for you.” Bill idly wiped oil from his fingertips.

“That’s not what I meant, and I think you know it.” Hermione took a breath, and handed him her notes. If she was right, the simple cipher she had used wouldn’t give him any trouble; sure enough, he cocked an eyebrow and started reading.

“… Interesting. Supposing these theories are true, Ms Granger, what do you intend to do with them?” 

“I want in.” It wasn’t just curiosity; Hermione, an only child with few friends, saw how close the Weasleys (and somehow, Harry) were, and she craved it.

Bill looked her in the eye for a long, still moment. “As you have deduced, this is a dangerous game, Ms Granger. Our practices are often underhanded or outright shady.” He smiled slightly, and Hermione suspected that she had been played. Again. “Such as, for example, recruiting twelve-year-old girls.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously there is much more to explore here (even in first year) and I may expand on this when I get the chance. Ideas include:  
> \- The Norbert incident,  
> \- whatever happened with Quirrell?  
> \- That Cissnei is currently AMAB (*farts in JKR's general direction*)  
> \- Fawkes providing phoenix down ^^


End file.
